


Shared History

by Eff_Dragonkiller



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Implied BAMFness, Might become a larger peice, Mocking use of 'Soul Mate', No Military Research, Not quite an AU, Specifically Military Tattoos, Tattoos, Tension, making it up as I go, not the fun kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2626583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eff_Dragonkiller/pseuds/Eff_Dragonkiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why do you trust him so much?!"</p>
<p>Shane confronts Rick about the odd relationship between Rick Daryl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shared History

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble I wrote because I've just about lost all interest in my Nano fic. Shame too. I like playing with the idea that Rick and Daryl either already met before, have shared history, or some other reason for the instant trust between them. I mean completely acceptable that they're soulmates, but sometimes it's fun to play with alternatives. *cheeky grin*

"Why do you trust him so much?" Shane yelled angrily. "He your soulmate or something?"

It was a mock and a sneer at the unusual and instant connection that had sprung between their leader and their hunter. It was so odd and remarkable that more than one member of their little survivalist group was asking questions about it. And now Shane was calling them out on it in front of everyone and God on the lawn of the Greene Family farm. 

Rick could feel Daryl at his back, a couple paces away waiting for a cue and leaving it all up to him. Rick stared at the deputy, his once partner, and wondered when they'd grown so far apart. His fingers went to the buttons on his shirt as he called out to the archer behind him, "Whiskey - Echo - Charlie - Foxtrot, 5-9-7-8-1."

The other man was firm when he replied in kind, "Bravo - Delta -Hotel-Juliet, 5-9-7-8-1."

What everyone could see now that shirts were stripped off to display seriously cut muscles on both men, was a tattoo. A tattoo identical on both men.  
It spread from sternum to shoulder blade covering the left half of each man's chest. It swooped and swirled, inking a warning label to any who knew how to read it. Painting a definitive line in black that these men were different than the rest. That they weren't who people assumed they were. 

"That answer your question Shane?"


End file.
